Mountain Biking

Ok, so I feel like I am not very good at mountain biking, but it's becoming really fun to me.  A lot of times I find myself wondering why I'm not the type of person who can't be satisfied just reading a book or going for a run. No, for some reason, I need to put myself in situations where my adrenaline is really going.  So, mountain biking is becoming an avenue for that, apparently.

Yesterday I went on the most technical ride I've been on yet.  I did a ride called the Flathead Pass climb about 20 miles north of town.  Of course I brought my trusty adventure dog.  The ride was rated 3/5 in  "technical difficulty" in my guide. Well, apparently 3 is not in my comfort zone. I definitely had to get off and push my bike a bunch, but there were also sections that I pushed myself and surprised myself by making it up.

The weather was phenomenal. So were the views. The Bozeman area is really fantastic (oh yeah, for those reading this, I moved to Bozeman for the summer to work at a non-profit conservation organization called the Greater Yellowstone Coalition).  I'm riding my dad's old hardtail Marin no-bells-or-whistles-no-hydraulics-no-diskbreaks bike. It is sweet.

riding up through ranchlands

Izzy (in her new backpack) at the top.

The ride took place on a rugged, rutted, super rocky jeep road.  At the top, we ran into a bunch of ATVers and people who had driven Jeeps up.  What the hell is the point in driving a vehicle on a really rugged road?  

view looking south.  

We rode another few miles from the pass and got back onto trails very few people use. On the way down I learned the hard way that to ride down super rocky, rutted terrain, you need to go fast. I went too slow and ate shit pretty hard on the rocks. Somehow I walked away with only a scrape on my hand, which bled enough to get all over my shirt. I was pretty shaken up after the fall, but did get back on and then had fun again.  After getting back to town, I  had to run a few errands, and was humored by the fact that I was covered in mud with blood all over my shirt returning a mousepad at Staples. 

Evening climbing at Rattler Gulch

Just a quick entry, because I'm packing to move and should probably go to sleep.

Today, after working diligently for a few hours typing up code for my thesis, my friend Larry and I took advantage of the break in the rain to head to Rattler Gulch, about 45 miles east of Missoula.  Very close to Mulky Gulch in fact.  It was such a gorgeous afternoon and the new snow in the distance was a nice sight.

View from the top of "Snake Eye"

 We tacked some easy climbs (all 5.8's), but I lead them all and felt good about it.  I felt controlled and careful and totally within my ability level.  I feel like I'm ready to move on to leading more 5.9's.

The limestone ribs of Rattler Gulch

 Izzy, on the other hand, is not so jazzed about me getting up high away from her... She's certainly getting more used to the idea, but seems genuinely concerned that my life is in the hands of a 9.8mm yellow little rope.

All in all, a good afternoon/evening of climbing.  Nice to get out for one of my last days in Missoula for a while.

Sidewinder Wall

Spring Skiing on St. Mary's Peak

So today I accomplished a goal of getting another day in on the skis before the end of the "season." When I explained that, yes, I was going skiing on Tuesday, people were like "There's still snow?".  And yes, believe it or not, that white stuff you see covering the mountains all around Missoula is indeed snow. And yes, you can still ski it.

So, who better to go skiing with than this guy I just met at the local brewery, Ryan.  He has the familiarity with skiing the Bitteroot and the desire to go to ridiculous lengths to get a few turns in, so I convinced him to take the day off everything and go skiing with me.  We were originally going to do Lolo Peak, but opted for a more accessible mountain, St. Mary's Peak.  I didn't really care where we skied, I just wanted to be up among mountains in the alpine; something that has been lacking in my life lately.  The weather looked hopeful, and as I said, it wouldn't rain. The road to St. Mary's this time of year takes you within about 3 miles of the summit, which is still a decent skin in, especially in wet, sloggy snow.

We headed up until the most reasonable stopping point near the summit, drank a beer, and surveyed our options of decent.  By far the best skiing would require an extra skin out.  We did it anyways.

We skinned back up, skied down the ridge we climbed and totally overshot the trail on the way back.  Oh well, more skinning.  Springtime skinning generally involves a lot of non-snow ski interface circumstances, as in skinning over logs, rocks, patches of dirt, moss, beargrass, deer poop... you name it.  We skinned over all

of it.  Gear in good shape is gear that probably hasn't been used much, right?

  

Even before we got back to the truck, we decided we'd hit up the Blacksmith brewery in Stevensville.  I'm pretty sure I burned about 4 days worth of food in that hike.  Finally back in Stevensville, sitting on the patio of the Blacksmith drinking a much deserved beer,  the rain began. Perfect timing. 

Morels!

I woke up on Saturday morning to my alarm and just did not want to get out of bed.   I just really wanted to sleep.  Well I'm sure glad I did get up, and despite looking out my window down the Bitteroot Valley to see giant rain clouds hugging all the peaks, the day was happening.

Colin Maher, a friend who is also in the forest ecology lab, met me at my place and we drove down hwy 93 for about an hour, searching for an area of the Bitteroot National forest which burned last summer.  I had put about 15 minutes of effort looking into fire perimeters, found one that looked accessible, and decided to give it a go.  Our mission? Morels.

Morels are a highly sought after species of fungus.  Everyone raves about them around here, yet it seems like few people actually go and get them.  I don't know a lot about their ecology, but they tend to grow in recently disturbed stands (ie., after fire).  I've been wanting to go track them down ever since I spent a field season in Wind River, WA and spent every day of October eating freshly picked chantrelles.  The spring after that I was hiking, and last spring my foot was broken, so yesterday I finally got my chance! It only took 2 years...

Sometimes you have days when things just work out.  Yesterday was one of those days.  We followed the road until we happened upon a salvage logging operation, drove a ways up a really well maintained logging road with no gates, potholes, or no trespassing signs (this never happens in MT).  We parked, and hiked up into the burn.

Colin hunting the burn.

About twenty minutes later, I spotted one. My first morel!  This doesn't happen, right? All of a sudden, they seemed to be everywhere.  One always hears how it takes multiple days before you find your first.  People even go seasons without finding any. I literally parked my car, hiked up the hill, and there they were. Ours for the taking.

My first one!

It started to pour, our hands were freezing, but we pushed on until we had a good enough bounty.  We didn't see a single other person the whole time.  Izzy, my dog, had a blast.  I don't think she understood the what we were doing, but she was certainly on the hunt for something.

On the way back to the car, I yelped when I saw the biggest one of the day just minutes from where we had parked.   Yeehaw!

We were cold and hungry, so we drove into Hamilton and stopped at the Bitteroot Brewery for some amazing local beer and gourmet pub food.  The sweet potato fries are a must have.  Back home, I dumped my booty out on the counter. Not bad for an early season hunt!

Did I tell you I love Montana?

Climbing Mulky Gulch with Eryn

Yesterday Eryn and I got out of town in the beautiful sunshine for some ladies only climbing. Ladies and dogs that is.  We headed out to Mulky Gulch, a canyon with cool rock spires about 45 minutes from Missoula to the east.  We parked the car before the 4wd track and hiked in.

Another day of absolutely perfect weather in western Montana.  The skies were bluebird and the sun was nice and warm. Actually, it was pretty hot reflecting off the wall.  We had two very thirsty dogs!

The mission of the day for me was to conquer some lead climbs, which is something that is very new to me.  I lead a 5.8 and a 5.9 and then we top roped a 5.10c/d.  The climbs were slabby; all friction holds for the feet.  Our toes hurt but we had huge smiles on our faces. 

What I really like about climbing is that when you are doing it, especially leading, it's all you are thinking about. 100% of your thoughts and concentration are in the moment.  

Can't wait to get back on some rock later this week :)

The List

This is a work in progress.  I've only really just started thinking about what I want to do (and what I can feasibly do) in the next year and a half.  This document will be updated as I add things. Here we go:

1) Ski Lolo peak: I've looked at this dang mountain every day since I moved to Missoula.  And I haven't skied it! It's been something I've wanted to do since the first week I moved here.  It's not a technical ascent for spring skiing.

2) Climb in the desert

3) Hike the John Muir Trail (again)

4) Lead a 5.11 onsight, hangs ok (accomplished! 10/2013.  First onsight 11.b lead "No Drama Obama @ Mill Creek)

5) Lead a trad route

6) Finish my master's degree!

7) Climb a multi-pitch trad route and lead at least one pitch

8) Make a new friend every month

9) Knit a sweater.

10) Visit Alaska

11) Ski at least 25 days

12) Teach a WRFI course

13) Lead and SCA summer crew

14) Run the Pengully Double Dip half marathon

15) Onsight an 5.11

Rafting the Lochsa during high water

Today was just a hands down great day.
My current theory in life is just say yes.  When I was invited to go rafting today, I just said yes. I popped over to the outdoor program to rent the basic gear on Friday, and woke up Saturday to trek out up and over Lolo Pass to put in on the Lochsa.  I didn't really have any idea what I was getting into, until I mentioned what I was doing to the bartender at the Kettlehouse last night.  He made it clear that I was going to be doing some swimming.   Having rafted a bunch, swam a number of times, and gone over big rapids, I felt totally fine with the situation. Plus, Eric had just gotten Stella.  A solid 14-footer. A beauty of  raft.

The weather was phenomenal.  The skies were bluebird. The trees were neon green with spring growth.  It was probably 85 degrees on the shore; a bit cooler on the water.  I honestly couldn't have planned a better day to be out on the water. The water was frigid  probably about 38 degrees.  The cold where your lungs feel like they are collapsing when you enter.

To say the rapids were large would be an understatement.  They were fucking huge. Definitely the largest rapids I've ever run.  And the fact that I had no idea about the size of the rapids was probably a good thing. I asked at one point, "Why are there all those people parked by the side of the road up ahead?".  I didn't need an answer. I knew we were headed for a whopper. We greased through Lochsa falls like a wet bar of soap, while every other boat else got flipped. And those are not the kind of rapids you want to swim.  We did manage to flip later on, on a rather little known sneaker wave.  Everyone swam, but we all got in relatively quickly.  On another instance we had 2 swimmers, but also got them back without much trouble.

On the drive back up to where we put-in, we stopped to view the Lochsa Falls.  I'm not really sure how the hell we made it through that without being tossed.  Luck and a skilled guide did the trick.  The water was constantly changing and surging.  We must have hit it at the perfect moment.

On the drive back to Missoula, we stopped at the Lumberjack saloon for beers (whiskey for me) and food.  I stayed at the Jack for my friend Devin's birthday celebration.   Just another day in a great place to live.